


truths may vary

by cosmiclattes



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Adventure, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual equalist!Tarrlok, Family Drama, Gen, Other, poor parenting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:09:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29598795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmiclattes/pseuds/cosmiclattes
Summary: They say the anti-bending movement was born either somewhere in the Earth Kingdom or in the Northern Water Tribe some seven odd years ago...The mysterious, masked brothers at the head of the cause neither confirm nor deny this.——(Inspired by: https://appaandoogi.tumblr.com/post/83329279461/au-tarrlok-and-noatak-leave-together-as-boys-to)
Relationships: Noatak & Tarrlock (Avatar)
Kudos: 6





	truths may vary

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by this au (https://appaandoogi.tumblr.com/post/83329279461/au-tarrlok-and-noatak-leave-together-as-boys-to) by appaandoogi on tumblr who was kind enough to let me try my hand at it ~ ✨
> 
> I just discovered this fandom in 2021 and it probably shows tbh. ✨
> 
> My tumblr is the same as my ao3 name ✨

HE TAKES ACROSS THE TUNDRA ON FOOT. The frost doesn’t bother him at first, but after the first mile it starts to sting like a hundred little needles poking at his heels. It hurts like hell. He curses it at first, then he laughs. If this is his punishment, it wouldn’t be enough. The snow picks up. Sharp and icy cold. He laughs harder.

He was born in a blizzard. 

That’s what his father told him. That he knew from the start he’d be a strong bender because of that alone. It seems weirdly fitting that he’ll probably die in one too. He’s glad Tarrlok stayed.

The hunting party finds him the following morning. It’s divine providence. That’s what they say as they bundle him up on a sled between heavy furs and whisk him away. He can’t move his arms or legs. He can’t move anything. He wills his blood to flow to the tips of his fingers. The bottom of his feet. He can’t do that either. He resigns himself to watching the clouds fly overhead and the occasional grey, fur lined face peer back at him and give him a reassuring smile. 

After awhile the clouds give way to the tops of evergreens. 

He blinks.

Frowns.

That face returns. 

“Just resting awhile, kid,” he says. He shifts the fur aside and helps Noatak sit upright. There’s a disembodied whimper that sounds like it’s right in Noatak’s ear. 

It takes him a minute to realize it was coming from him.

“He’s awake?” Calls a voice somewhere above him. Grey Hood glances up and nods with a grimace. 

“What’s your name, kid?”

“N...nnnn—“

“Hey! Kari! Pour me a cup too, please?”

A heartbeat later and a warm cup is held to his lips. The liquid is bitter and makes him choke a bit. Grey Hood beats his back. His lungs clear and his name falls out with it.

“ _Noatak_ ,” Grey Hood repeats. Turning the name over in his mouth. “Where is your home, Noatak?”

“I d...on’t have one...”

Grey Hood blinks. A flutter of eyelashes that look a little too close to pity for Noatak’s liking. There’s a question in his eyes. Noatak can see the way his face contorts into a frown. As though pressing his lips and knitting his brows would keep it in place and not spook the boy he and the others found half frozen in a cave. Only the blue of his coat standing out against the sloping snow drifts and ice...

“Okay,” Grey Hood says. “Alright.”

He assists Noatak back into his makeshift sick bed and before long, the world is in motion again.

By the time he awakens again, he’s staring up at a giant made of stone. He wonders if Tarrlok is looking up at one too, right about now.

Grey Hood turns when he hears the movement and chuckles when he sees Noatak staring blearily up at the inukshuk.

“Have you ever been to Agna Qel'a, Noatak?”

* * *

His mother has eyes the color of the sky right before dawn. 

They are level with him now. Hands smoothing down the hair caught in a biting morning wind. 

There’s tears there. 

Tarrlok already knows where this is going.

“What happened out there?” She asks, voice almost taken by the sound of the village around them. Awakening. Blissfully unaware that one of their own is missing. That there’s a house on the border of something vile and poisonous. Tarrlok swallows around the stiff lump just past his tongue and shakes his head.

“I can’t say...”

“You _can’t_ say, my love, or you _won’t_ say?” She presses. One of those tears escapes and Tarrlok feels his own eyes well up. 

_We tried to tell you._

“Does it have to do with...the training?” She whispers.

The noise that comes out of him startles him. A half choke, half wail. It’s muffled by his mother’s shoulder before it fully leaves his throat. He wants to scream. He wants to run away too. He wants his brother back.

As if reading his thoughts, she squeezes him tighter.

* * *

“I don’t know how he survived. It’s impossible...”

“The spirits know something we don’t.”

Noatak flinches awake, a gasp leaving his chest burning and head swimming. The bright expanse of sky replaced by the beams of a house. His coat and boots are gone leaving him in only his first layer of clothes. Shivering, he sits up and studies his surroundings.

Outside a small window rises the glassy expanse of a city. _Agna Qel'a_ , his mind supplies readily. It’s early morning judging by the golden light, lifting just over the horizon and setting the buildings aglow. That and the smell coming from downstairs...

Swallowing a sense of guilt, he pushes himself up and wanders to the door, tugging at his sleeves. The voices pause and a flush makes his ears burn. 

Suppressing a groan, he inches down the stairs. 

“Noatak,” Grey Hood—now Grey Hood _less_ —says by way of greeting. He’s on his feet, both hands extended in an offer of help, but then—

_ his arms are aching and his father comes round in front of him. Grasps his wrists and lifts them an inch, returning to his side with a click of his tongue, satisfied with the adjustments to his form. _

_ ‘Again.’ _

_ He can see Tarrlok in his peripheral, wide eyes trained on him only. Not the poor beast held half a foot over the ground. At him. Like he’s the one being controlled— _

“Noatak...?”

He takes in a shaky breath. Flinches when he realizes Grey Hood had stepped closer and immediately regrets it. The flash of horror that passes across his rescuers face is enough to turn his stomach.

“I’m sorry, I should g—“

“—Eat,” a woman. He hadn’t seen her at first. Older with salt and pepper hair tied back into a braided knot. She motions at the table with a soft smile.

Noatak warily sits.

“Noatak, this is my aunt,” Grey Hood says recovering quickly with a cough. “Aunt Amka, this is Noatak.”

“The boy in the blizzard,” Amka says thoughtfully, plating up a piece of a roasted bird and handing it to him. “Qutan told me about your recovery.”

“I won’t bother you longer than necessary, ma’am,” Noatak says quickly. “I—thank you—I can help with any work you have to pay you and your nephew back. Or if you know someone who’s looking for a worker, then I...can. I can bend, too.”

The look Qutan-Not-Grey-Hood and Amka share doesn’t go unnoticed. 

“Where is your family, Noatak?” Amka asks. 

_‘Noa?’_

_His name is muffled from where his brothers face is buried in between his shoulders. He had been snoring only a second ago. The vibration of his voice making his older brother startle a bit._

_‘What?’_

_‘I had a nightmare. You...you used your bending on me.’_

_‘It was only a dream.’_

_He never says that he’d never—_

“I can’t go back,” he says. His voice coming in a hoarse whisper. “My father...he’d be furious...he’d...”

He closes his eyes. 

He had called Tarrlok the weak one before he had left. And here he was, barely able to tell a story.

_He was born in a blizzard._

_He was a strong bender._

_He wasn’t weak._

Amka rests a hand over his. He looks up.

“You said you were a bender?” 


End file.
